


I Think We're Alone Now

by orphan_account



Series: Liz's TWC Works From Tumblr [3]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Music, Unit Bravo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Unit Bravo dancing alone to an old song, united in the euphoric feeling that is music
Series: Liz's TWC Works From Tumblr [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995769
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	I Think We're Alone Now

**N** dusted off an old record player a few weeks ago, and there it sat on an old wooden end table in the main common area long before anyone had decided to use it. But, it was quiet on that Autumn eve when N pursed their lips, and gave their dark hair a ruffle before pushing themself off of the couch and rummaging through their collection of vinyls.

Their hands grazed along the sides of the bookcase, fingers fidgeting as they furrowed their brows. It was a harder process than you would’ve thought, N couldn’t possibly choose the wrong sound, and ruin their wondrous mood.

They settled on a jazz song, a sound they had almost forgotten, a wide smile lighting up their face when their fingers delicately grasped the vinyl, and they got giddy just thinking about how beautiful the song would sound on their record player (and the room which N found to have wonderful acoustics).

With gentle and careful fingers they pulled the vinyl from the shelf and brushed their hand over the cover, a content sigh spilling from their lips. Then, as cautiously as they could—and they had decided in this moment, only _they_ would work their record player... the other members of the team could be clumsy to say the least—they nestled the vinyl into the record player, and closed their eyes.

It was hard to connect all of the instruments together, the saxophone, the trumpets, and piano, all clashing in dissonance, but with careful concentration they pieced the ensemble together, and it was like heaven on earth when they did.

They shoved their hands in their pockets, and humming along to the brassy sound, they rocked back on their heels and began to sway their hips, feeling the melody drip like honey through their bones.

It wasn’t long before they had a smile that reached miles past their eyes, and with the music reaching deep in their soul, their feet moved to the tempo, tapping and turning around. Oh, music, they thought, clouded the room in liquid euphoria.

**A** had long since abandoned their care for music. Silly rhythms and silly melodies, made no difference in how they lived, or survived. Still, they couldn’t deny the simple soundings of a soft and delicate harmony made their heart soften, even if it was just a fleeting moment.

They were hard at work, mountains of paperwork piled atop their desk, but A was content to their simple, and repetitive occupation, lest things be going horribly wrong otherwise.

But, then, the tips of their ears twitched, sensitive to a sound that wasn’t there before, and they furrowed their heavy, blonde eyebrows. They twisted in their seat, and faced the direction of the noise.

Noise, yes that’s what they thought, the gentle humm of a distant saxophone, was just that, _noise_. They groaned, and pinched the bridge of their nose at the nuisance, but they made no move in stopping the melody from reaching their ears.

It only took a couple of moments, and then A was tapping their foot to the tempo underneath their desk, without even realizing it. The music seeping into every crevice of their being, and then again, without even realizing it, they were humming.

Every dip, and every rise, even a gentle crescendo and diminuendo was emphasized by their voice, and even when they caught themself, they didn’t stop. Just a quick glance at the door, deciding no one would see, and they began to bop their head.

The corners of their lips lifted into a pleasant smile, but then an agent walked by, and they snapped their body still, and waited... and once the agent was out of their sight, they chuckled, and began to humm and dance once more.

**M** still needed to get used to music. Even more than A, they considered music to be a clambering of noise that only served as a way to agitate them, though they attributed that to their hypersensitivity. Though, they couldn’t exactly remember if they had ever loved music, but it didn’t serve much of a purpose to them now.

They landed a hard punch on the punching bag that was currently the target of their anger. Their hair was pulled up into a loose bun, low near the nape of their neck, so as to not let it impede their training. It was an incredibly rare sight, to see their hair ever pulled up, but luckily, they were alone... completely alone.

Their fist landed once again on the punching bag, but when it did, the impact sounded off with a crash that M couldnt quite place. M pulled away and looked at their fist, inspecting it with all of their focus before they heard the same crash again.

The cymbals of a drumset, they realized. With a low growl, and a frown on their face they huffed, and puffed, and stomped their way to their bag sitting on the bench nearby. But as they sat down, and itched to pull out a cigarette, they didn’t.

The harsh clash, and low roar of the cymbals and bass, beat heavily in their heart. They could feel their pulse align with the tempo of the music coming from the other room, and despite their irritation they tapped their fingers on their thigh, and their foot on the floor.

They scoffed and lit their cigarette, breathing in deeply before flicking it, letting the ash fall to the floor. A would get on them about that later, but it’s not like they cared.

The banging of the drums, every crash, and every boom, and every staccato hit, had M on their feet, punching a fist out with every beat, and soon they were lost in the sounds. The sounds echoed loudly in their mind, with a dull pang, that despite their hypersensitivity, they didn’t exactly mind.

**F** had always enjoyed the slidings of a guitar, and the wild echoes and beats of an electrified melody. They would never say no to losing their feeling to the energy rising in their veins. And dancing, well it had always been something they’d enjoyed, even if the rest of their team wasn’t as keen on it—well maybe save for N.

Their legs were hanging off of the chair they were sitting on as they raised their hands, trying desperately to gain another bar of service on their phone. They frowned, their bottom lip pouting when they _lost_ another bar.

With a sigh, they sat up straight, setting their phone on the cushiony seat, when they heard the faint musings of a deep and heavy bass coming from the other side of the building. A grin settled on their lips, as they clapped their hands together.

They jumped onto their feet, and closed their eyes, letting the music create a colorful collage of soulful paintings in their mind. It took their breath away, as they lost themself in the way the trumpets blared, glorious even so far away. The roar of the bass settling just as deeply in their bones.

Their feet itched, and they ached, and soon they were twisting, and twirling, and moving their arms in a way that was not at all graceful, but it didn’t matter because F was floating, somewhere altogether different.

They opened their eyes, a wide grin on their face, their golden eyes bright, as they danced like no one was watching. Their gleaming tenor voice making up words to a song that nobody knows.

F let their heart and their feet guide them, through the melody, through the beat, singing like nobody could hear... until an agent walked by, and F turned to them, and held out their hand. Their smile infectious when the agent smiled and grasped their hand, and together they danced, like nothing could go wrong.


End file.
